


Pushing the Envelope

by marginaliana



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-18
Updated: 2008-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney doesn't understand why he's been filed away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing the Envelope

Rodney doesn't understand why he's been filed away, and he lets out a huff of frustration as the hand settles him into the folder on top of the stack of papers. The page behind him is frayed at the top, with a couple of rough staple holes, and when Rodney stops sulking he reads "Form JOHN - Joint Operations Hazard Narrative." A military form, then.

"It's John," says the other page.

Rodney grudgingly introduces himself. "I'm Rodney." He adds his full name, remembering that John can't see his front side. "Research Operations Description - Narrative of Emerging Events."

"Cool," says John, with a curl of his top left corner. "Nice to meet you."

"Cool," it turns out, is what John says to almost everything. It drives Rodney a little bit mad, especially when someone flips through their stack and past the folder, only to straighten the pile again and leave them alone.

"Not cool," he snaps after one such episode. "The opposite of cool, in fact. I'm a science form, a very important science form. Why am I stuck in a military file? I should be out there, filled with information, recording data. I'm going to be part of a Nobel experiment someday."

"Yeah, buddy, I know," says John. "But this is the master file. The most action we'll see is being taken to the copier every couple of weeks." His voice is wistful, and Rodney finds himself offering an attempt at comfort without quite knowing why.

"Oh, well," he says, "I'm sure they won't, ah, keep you here forever. You're pretty sturdy, so I bet you'll be crumpled up in someone's pocket before long, getting dirt and sweat all over you." He shudders a little at the thought, grateful for his own history of clean, flat surfaces.

John wrinkles his top corners. "Aw, Rodney," he drawls, "you say the sweetest things."

Rodney sputters. "I'm a science form, not a love letter!" It's not a great comeback, he knows, but he's distracted. John's lower edge is crisp and his fibers are strong, and Rodney has been fighting the urge to rub up against him for weeks now.

"Yeah," says John, rustling a little bashfully, "but equations are sexy." Rodney startles, then feels himself go a little bit crinkly with happiness. A lot of John's offhand comments about Rodney's broad letterhead have suddenly begun to make sense.

"Of course they are," Rodney says, blusteringly, but he leans in and curls his top edge over John's rough fringe in a careful caress.


End file.
